


we ride to justice

by kikkomanwrites



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, mentions of domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 17:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11213121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikkomanwrites/pseuds/kikkomanwrites
Summary: Akechi learns something about Ryuji, but it doesn't change much at the end.





	we ride to justice

Ryuji opened the door of Leblanc for him instead. “I’ve been waiting for you forever. Come on, we gotta get to Shinjuku".

Akechi spluttered in surprise. Currently, he was not a vengeful assassin of mind palaces, but simply an adolescent coffee-addicted zombie without his kick. But, when Sakamoto slammed a cup of coffee into his hand and mentioned something about Boss, Akechi could feel an all-powerful thankfulness – if he wasn’t annoyed before about getting manhandled.

“Quit shoving me around! What’s the rush, Sakamoto?” Akechi finally snapped at the dumb blond. Sakamoto, in all his obliviousness, blinked and looked at Akechi as if he just remembered who he was dragging around. The blond made his dislike of Akechi clear, but at the same time, he acts the same with Akechi – the friendly touches, the loudness, the occasional perverseness - as if he trusted the detective. The delinquent was probably too stupid to notice his machinations anyways.

It was almost nice.

The blond scratched the back of his head awkwardly, finally self-conscious. He mumbled, coughed for some time, and then spoke clearly. “Er, look, I need your help with some self-important snots at the municipal office. My family documents need to get updated stat, but they’re not going to rush for me.” Akechi blinked, slightly surprised at the appearance of Ryuji’s slight manipulative streak. Too much exposure to Akira? Akechi shrugged internally; it would be good to have someone on the team owe him.

“Sure.” The case: it’s Ryuji – boring, boisterous, and boorish.

That summed up Ryuji. But there was an additional shiftiness to the blond’s face, not deceitful, but obscuring a clue. A speculation: Ryuji got caught with alcohol or some minor misdemeanor and must appeal whatever punishment he got. But, Akechi thinks, he would bring the younger Nijima or even Akira if that was the case. And, as much as he doesn’t like Sakamoto, he had to admit that Ryuji would take his convictions directly. It’s a good quality, not a very realistic one though.

They ride in quietude to Shinjuku. It was early enough in the morning that despite the usual crowd, no one was awake enough to talk. They stood next to each, silent. Akechi finished his coffee, a bit too sugary; Ryuji frowned and creased and un-creased his brow – he seemed to be thinking about something. Probably chicks. The other commuters would have never guessed that they were more than simply just strangers by their quiet and distance.

Even when they walk together to the municipal building, they matched paces without words. Ryuji, despite his earlier tenseness and even his earlier loudness, seemed to have the calm of a man destined for the gallows. He did not remember how terrible it all was until they sat down with a bureaucrat, a Miss. Hibiki. Her eyes flashed towards him with clear interest – after all, everyone loves or hates the Detective prodigy, but Ryuji loudly tapped his fingers on the desk, a wrong move for this situation.

“So, Mr. Sakamoto, what is the purpose of your appointment today? You mentioned your family register.” Her voice was honey-thick, like the voices of the not-so-concerned social workers that would check on him for a minute and cash their work checks later.

“I know this is a bit early, but we need our family register updated. We’ll like our last name to be changed to Sakamoto… and if you could remove Adachi Kaoru from it, that would great too, ma’am.” Sakamoto looked the most focused Akechi has seen him, but Akechi wasn’t sure if Sakamoto could beat the will of an already-irritated bureaucrat and the inflexibility of an already-unfair system. He couldn't change hearts without the Metaverse. 

As Akechi sizes up the situation, Miss Hibiki has made up her mind. “Hem, hem, I apologize, but without the consent of Adachi-san, we cannot change your family registry.” She looks back down at her phone, a clear dismissal; Ryuji looks ready to flip and summon some lightning, a clear fight brewing. He could see a similarity between Sakamoto and the rest of the thieves – a strange stubbornness, a clear, certain resolve. Sakamoto was still boorish, but in this situation, Akechi could see something new he could envy. 

He was not a stranger to the predicted outburst though. “Are you freaking kidding me? We can’t reach him. He’s a deadbeat! He beat my mom black and blue five years ago and never came back.” Sakamoto took a breath, gathering his next argument. “Look, it’ll be great if my mother could go by her old name with paperwork and all. Can’t you have a heart?”

Akechi, at this moment, saw the woman’s face twist – from woman to shadow. He knew that she sees the dyed hair, the rudeness, and the thrifty clothes. She judges, just like everyone else who saw a kid in a shitty foster home and walked away.

He realized he must stop this.

“Ah, Miss Hibiki. I understand that you are bound by these rules, but you seem like a lovely and kind woman. I know you must care deeply for others’ wellbeing.” He slid into the situation smoothly. She nodded and giggled, obviously flattered. He continued to flatter and finally convinced her to update the family register.

Sakamoto was mouthing ‘For real?’ at him.

Akechi felt quite smug as the bureaucrat updates Sakamoto’s register with the correct values and names. His heart swelled with a foreign warmth – what was this? They were walking out and Sakamoto was moving with some barely restrained energy; Akechi, on autoplay, was just seeking the usual exit. He was thinking...

His thought process was interrupted thankfully by Sakamoto’s loud crow of ‘Hell yeah!’ He feels a warm arm land on his shoulders; he twitches a bit, but calms himself.

“Thanks, Akechi! I needed that assist!”

He must have taken a while to respond.

“What’s up?” Sakamoto asks.

He mumbled distractedly. “Nothing, just thinking.”

“Do you want to get lunch? My treat.”

This foreign emotion followed him throughout the trip back to Sakamoto’s favorite ramen place.

Friendship. A parallel between two completely different existences. Empathy. The term eludes him.

* * *

 “I haven’t been here for a while. Akira, Ann, and I got dinner here after a workout some weeks ago, but finals is taking up all our time.” Ryuji kept on mentioning identifying snippets of information – normal teenage stuff, but Akechi wasn’t a normal teenager. Neither was Ryuji, but Akechi was a detective.

“Ah, I haven’t had ramen for a while either.” He browsed through the menu, but the curiosity continued to eat at him. 

He bit the bullet and asked. “Your official name wasn’t Sakamoto?” Ryuji tensed, a familiar look in his eyes, but he seemed to pause his emotions and relax. It was a sore point.

“Yeah, it wasn’t. My dad left five years ago and we never seen him since. It was better since most of the places who needed that official stuff were flexible. All the teachers, well, except for that bastard Kamoshida, called me Sakamoto; same with my mom’s work. It’s just difficult with the family name of a dead beat, you know?”

“I kept my mother’s name too.” Sakamoto looked surprised for a moment, but rolled with it. He nodded, understanding, and slurped his noodles quickly.

“Yeah, it’s a better name anyways.”

Akechi never thought that it was, but he sipped the soup quietly, instead of responding. Ryuji, being the worst at social situations, noticed his strange silence and had to ask about it. 

“What’s your deal with your mom, Akechi? You look kinda lost.”

“I never knew my dad.” He lied. “My mom had me by herself, but she couldn’t deal with the shame and, well, killed herself. I’ve been in the foster system since I was a baby.”

Ryuji swirled the noodles of his soup thoughtfully. He finally talked after a moment. “I can’t compare experiences, but I get where you’re coming from. You know, I would return from school or practice or academy back then,” Ryuji used to go to academy? “Ok, hey, don’t look so surprised. How did you think I got into Shujin? Anyways, and, I would find my mom with some new bruises and cuts. She would be cleaning up whatever mess he left behind, but she always acted as if everything was fine. She loved that man so much she would forgive him for killing her – but, until I got beaten instead, she never lost hope in that bastard.”

Akechi knew where this was heading – he felt strangely uncomfortable. His brain pounded like the steam of a rice cooker, but he forced his emotions downwards. He made his choice! He didn't need to hear this. He nodded, instead - his material body, a traitor, to his goals. 

“I dunno. I sometimes hate myself for thinking that, but back then, I thought mom was weak and stupid for staying. She’s my mom and we’re only here for each other, but I was angry?” Ryuji paused for a bit and Akechi knew that he was wrapping up his thoughts again. “Well, I don’t know where I was going with this, but it’s alright to have those emotions sometimes. Like, fuck dads.”

“Yeah. I appreciate it.” Akechi said automatically. He didn’t want to think about it. There was a pressure pushing at the borders of his mind – he didn’t want to think about it. He should have confessed right then and now, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself that he was wrong. “You’re not as stupid and boorish as I thought you were.”

Ryuji was frowning as if he was expecting something else from Akechi, but he turned around and waved for the check.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a huge fan of Akechi, but I felt like his character could have been improved by a conversation with either Ryuji or Futaba....
> 
> Well, I'll appreciate any comments and headcanons... the dream is a long emotion filled thought filled comment


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